


Coming Home

by Vialana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coda, Episode 4x06, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 04, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 12:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vialana/pseuds/Vialana
Summary: After the battle, Keith needs to decompress. So do the other paladins.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, season 4. I did enjoy you very much, but fic was needed to wrap my head around some character things. Hence yet another new series. 
> 
> Please note the Keith/Lance in this is practically non-existent, it's more set-up for future installments.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

No one said a word as they made their way to the control room. Kolivan had arrived to debrief with a few members of the Blade to help with Lotor. The rest of his available troops were sent to assist with the few pockets of Galra resistance on now-freed planets. Coran was helping patch up some of the injured rebels who rendezvoused with the castle early with Keith after the attack on Haggar’s cruiser. Matt was unhurt and joined them in the control room.

The Voltron Alliance had succeeded. A third of the Galra Empire had fallen to their combined attack. The scattered rebellions and pockets of guerrilla resistance had united for a common cause and celebrations abounded in several systems.

The paladins of Voltron and their close allies, however, stood around the viewscreen in the control room in silence and stared at the image of one of their most elusive foes as he slept quite peacefully despite his captivity. Lotor was set up in unused quarters with two Marmora guards stationed outside at all times. It hardly seemed fair, considering their own state of exhaustion. They were confident enough to declare an overall victory, but battle still raged on some planets. They were still needed to assist with the few Galra left that were too powerful and stubbourn to be worn down by the rebels and the Blade alone.

Shiro surveyed the map, Coran on call from the med bay to help, and sent them on their assignments. It was unlikely that Voltron was needed, but the Lions would do a great deal on their own—not just in terms of firepower but for morale too.

Shiro gave in to Hunk’s pleading and sent him and Allura to where the Balmerans were helping take down a Galra fortress with a stockpile of weapons and food. Pidge and Lance were assigned to help the Taujeerian main force with a few tricky holdouts. Most of the other battles were wrapping up, but Shiro was staying on the castle to keep in contact with all the forces in case something went sideways. Kolivan offered to help while Coran was occupied and Matt was shuffled by his sister into Pidge’s chair to help run comms and keep track of external movement by using their improved Galra finder.

Keith hung back, watching everyone move determinedly to their next mission. A sharp ache pulled at his stomach seeing Lance disappear behind the door leading to Red’s hangar. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like on the castle, not really, but he didn’t realise how much he’d miss it once he was here and no longer an active part of the team.

Rather than sinking into the heartache, he focused on the still-open viewscreen displaying Lotor’s room and watched the Galra prince sleep.

“Keith.” The call drew his attention back to the control room. Shiro turned around to look at him from the Black Paladin seat. “You should go get checked out by Coran.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest, but Shiro had already turned back to the maps in front of him. Kolivan, standing next to Shiro, nodded at him, making Shiro’s request an order.

Matt caught his gaze as he turned to leave, offering a sympathetic smile. Keith couldn’t manage to return it, despite the gratitude he felt from the small gesture.

It was strangely easier to breathe once he was out in the familiar corridors of the castle. Even though he still felt that same aching homesickness, it was easier to bear without anyone from his team around staring at him. He took to long route to the med bay, enjoying refamiliarising himself with the castle. He debated stopping by his room to get a change of clothes, but it would make more sense to change after Coran had seen him.

The med bay was far more crowded than Keith had ever seen it. Most of the pods were occupied and a few of the uninjured rebels were by the beds helping Coran deal with minor burns and lacerations. However, as soon as Coran spotted Keith hovering awkwardly by the doorway, he rushed over to pull him into a hug almost as tight and encompassing as one of Hunk’s.

“I’m so very glad you’re safe my boy.”

Keith froze in Coran’s grip. The older Altean was quite free with expressing his emotions, but he rarely used such overt touch to do so—he was more prone to a hand on the arm or a brief squeeze around the shoulders (Pidge got a regular pat on the head as she passed and Lance a slap on the back). Keith was just getting used to the affection so freely offered by his team and, having been deprived of it while with the Blade of Marmora, it was startling to be surrounded by such warmth again. Startling, but very welcome.

Before Coran could pull back and brush off his over-emotional state, Keith closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace.

Coran’s hand slid up his back to hold his neck firmly and Keith let himself be guided into the crook of Coran’s neck. His breath hitched and he started trembling as Coran gently stroked his hair.

“Oh my boy. You’re safe now.”

Keith let himself believe the whispered words. He hid from the injured rebels in the med bay by curling further into Coran, his fingers grasping the back of Coran’s uniform. He let himself feel—all of it: the fear, the pain, the panic, the dread, the loneliness—and released all of his emotions, sobbing on Coran’s shoulder until there was nothing left but the safety and warmth Coran promised.

 

* * *

 

Keith found himself in his old room once Coran let him go after assuring himself that Keith wasn't injured. He sank into his bed, body already losing the remaining tension as he lay on the familiar mattress and breathed in the stale scent of _home_.

He closed his eyes and just breathed.

Though he'd probably laid there for several vargas, it felt like Keith had barely closed his eyes before he was startled into full wakefulness by a knock on the door. His luxite blade was already in his hand, a recent habit he knew would be difficult to break.

The knocking persisted.

“Keith?” Hunk’s voice carried through the closed door. “I know you're in there. Coran said he gave you a clean bill of health. I just really needed to see for myself. Keith?”

Keith groaned as he sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed. The battles that day had been intense and he wasn't used to flying a Galra fighter. The seats and controls were just different enough to be awkward for longer flights. His muscles were all twisted up in painful knots. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hasty to turn down Coran's offer of a salve.

“Keith, you know I have no compunction about rewiring your lock and breaking in. So, if you’re having some alone time playing with your——”

Keith opened the door to see Hunk, still in uniform, hunched over the outside door control with his tools already deep in the wiring.

Hunk’s eyes widened when Keith opened the door and he took a moment to visually assess if Coran was right to let Keith go. Then his gaze caught on the knife still in Keith’s grasp and he smirked.

“I see I _was_ interrupting. But you can polish your blade later. Tuck that thing away and get ready. I am in need of serious reassurance.”

Keith barely had time to register the innuendo, much less sheathe his knife, before Hunk grabbed him—pulled him right off the ground!—for one of the best hugs of his life. He didn’t freeze this time, far more used to Hunk’s random shows of affection. He wrapped his arms around Hunk and squeezed back, smiling at the delighted laugh it provoked.

They had to have been standing there almost five dobashes (maybe more, Keith really didn’t care, he’d _missed_ this) before they were interrupted.

“No fair! I called first dibs on hugs!”

Hunk snorted, setting Keith back down and stepping back so Pidge could tackle Keith.

Keith yelped and stumbled back, but instinctively wrapped his arms around Pidge’s shoulders as he crashed against the wall. Hunk snickered at them and pulled out his phone to get a photo. Keith just rolled his eyes and smiled down at Pidge.

Maybe he was just imagining it, but he didn’t think he had to look down as far as he used to. “Did you hit a growth spurt while I was away?”

“Jerk.” Pidge pulled back to slug him on the arm before snuggling back into his chest. Yeah, she was definitely taller. Not by much, but enough that he could feel the tips of her unruly locks tickling his chin without hunching down to meet her embrace. Her grip was firmer too. She was shaking, but her hands were like iron nails pinning him in place.

When she pulled back, Keith was able to take in both of their appearances properly. He'd barely had a chance to greet them on the bridge earlier before they'd been sent away to wrap things up. He frowned, as he looked them over, reaching out to brush his fingers over a smear of black soot on Pidge’s shoulder.

“I knew it was a rough mission, but how close was it really?”

“You mean before or after we found out the planet was a bomb?”

The three standing in Keith’s doorway turned to see Lance sauntering towards them, water packs in hand. He tossed one to each of them and practically inhaled his own.

He looked exhausted—they all did. Bruising under the eyes, greasy helmet hair, chapped lips that the water Lance brought barely helped. It was nothing too dissimilar to the way they looked and felt after other big missions, but suddenly all Keith could think about was how close he came to losing everyone he cared about.

Before Keith even realised what he was doing, he moved to where Lance stood, empty water pack crumpled in his hand, and leaned his forehead against Lance's shoulder. His arms slipped around Lance's waist and he tried not to fall apart again like with Coran.

Lance froze at the first touch and he could hear Hunk choking on water he swallowed the wrong way. He also heard the faint click from Pidge’s camera but really couldn't care about future blackmail when he was only now starting to breathe properly after what felt like years underwater.

“Aw, look, he really did miss us.” Hunk had regained enough breath to tease them with a hoarse voice.

Keith scowled against Lance's shoulder. The other paladin still hadn't moved. He started to pull away. If there was no reason for him to——

“Wait!” Lance's arms flew up and wrapped around Keith’s back, pulling them even closer together—chest to chest—as Keith tried to break the embrace. “Nonononono. Let me savour this rare and unique event for as long as I can without getting stabbed.”

Keith snorted at the teasing but closed his eyes and let Lance hold him.

He hadn’t lost them. His family was still here. And Keith did not want to let them go again.

 

* * *

 

In the end, Lance broke the embrace with a comment about Keith’s rank suit—not that Lance could really talk. The entire hallway smelled like stale sweat and smoke and ozone. Hunk suggested they all take a shower and loosen up before reconvening in the lounge. Pidge had managed to get a few weird vids from the Altean library they could watch and make fun of together and Matt had offered a few of his own collection to her for when they had some downtime. Hunk talked about making a few quick snacks while Pidge set up, teasing that Lance would barely be finished with his skincare routine before they were ready to settle in for a night’s entertainment. Keith just watched the interplay, as he’d often done before, with a faint smile on his face and a sense of peacefulness settling into his bones.

He really had missed this.

Normally, Keith’s routine showers didn’t take longer than a few dobashes. He cleaned himself thoroughly but perfunctorily, knowing that there were more important things to worry about than comfort. But this time he lingered, soaking in the spray of warm water, breathing in the humid air and letting the pressure of the water jets ease some of the ache from his muscles. He stretched out in the cubicle, watching droplets trail down his arms and cut through the grime of constant battle. He washed his hair, running his fingers through the locks and actually properly conditioned it with the stuff that Lance shoved at him months ago—insisting that the sight of Keith’s split ends offended him to his very core. He watched the water fall off his body and swirl down the drain and imagined that all the worry and pain and despair this last battle brought up washed away with it.

When he stepped out of the shower—skin tingling and refreshed, hair silky and light—he felt more clear-headed and _human_ than he had in far too long.

His clothes were stiff with disuse, but the smell and texture were far more comforting than he expected. He even pulled on his gloves and jacket, just to complete the feeling of normality.

Hunk and Pidge were already in the lounge when he got there. Both were in their pyjamas. Keith had never worn his. They would probably feel almost as alien as wearing his Marmora suit to this sleepover. Pidge was at the projector control panel, hooking up her custom gear. She waved as she glanced up before focusing back on her work. Hunk smiled at him as he set down a tray of green chip-like savoury snacks and— _were those milkshakes_?!

Keith reached over to eagerly grab one but Hunk batted his hand away.

“Wait until we’re all here.”

Keith pouted but acquiesced, satisfying himself with stealing a chip. Hunk raised an eyebrow but let it go.

The door opened and Lance strode in, decked out in his robe and facemask, dragging a huge fluffy blanket with smaller blankets and pillows stacked on it behind him.

“Aw yeah!” Hunk skipped to the door to help him out. “Now this is a proper sleepover.”

He grabbed a few of the pillows and threw them at the floor in front of the lounges. Lance fussed over the placement of a few, frowning with a finger by his chin—not touching, he had better discipline than that with his routine—as he surveyed the look of the pile.

Keith just watched them argue over the spread of the blanket and thickness of various pillows. The whole scenario was ridiculous but he was just so happy to be there, watching his teammates try to instigate a pillow fight, that he didn’t even think about making a snarky comment.

Pidge came up beside him, leaning into his side and snickering as Hunk managed to land a hit on Lance’s backside as he was leaning over to steal the blanket back.

“Make sure you don’t hit the shakes!” She called out, halting the battle.

“Dude!” Lance dropped the pillows he was holding and zeroed in on the tray of goodies. “Hunk, buddy, you spoil us.”

“I try.” Hunk grinned and let his own pillows fall back to the floor. “So, did you manage to catch Allura?”

Lance’s smile dropped a little. “She said she’d try to come by but I think she’s still trying to process a few things about Nacxela. She was going to go see Coran after getting cleaned up.”

Hunk and Pidge nodded while Keith just stared, bewildered.

“That makes sense,” Hunk said. “And Shiro? Matt?”

Lance shook his head. “Matt might come by later but Shiro turned me down. He and Kolivan are talking with some of the rebel captains about what to do next. I asked him if he needed any help but …” Lance sighed. “Well, you know. Apparently things are cooling off? We’re supposed to be on standby, but even Kolivan was telling his troops to get some rest, so, I’m taking that as implicit confirmation that any Galra left on our side of the border are running scared and not a threat at all.”

“Nice.” Hunk sat down on the lounge and picked up the tray behind him. “In that case, let’s get this party started!”

Pidge whooped and jumped onto the lounge next to Hunk, scooping up her milkshake. Lance leaned over to grab two of them but before anyone could protest, he walked over to Keith and offered one to him.

“They’re pretty good.”

Keith took the proffered drink. “If Hunk made them, that’s a given.”

“Aw, shucks Keith.” Hunk held a hand to his heart. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to anyone. Just so you know though, I’m kinda taken.”

Pidge and Lance laughed as Keith blushed and sputtered. He thought about trying to protest but decided to keep what dignity he had left and just sat down next to Pidge and started drinking his milkshake.

He had trouble stopping with just a sip. It was absolutely amazing.

“Oh my god.” Keith practically moaned as he pulled off the straw. “I wanna make myself sick just drinking gallons of this.”

Hunk was actually blushing at the compliment. “I take it back: _that_ is the nicest thing you’ve said to anyone ever. Who are you and what have you done with our moody swordsman?”

“Shut up,” Keith said around the straw in his mouth. He leaned over Pidge to shove at Hunk’s shoulder.

“Nevermind, there he is.” They all laughed at the familiar teasing.

Lance sat down next to Keith, making him feel warm and cosy instead of caged in and anxious like such close proximity with others normally did. But this was his team—his family—of course things were going to be different with them.

He settled back against the couch, reveling in the brief brushes of Lance and Pidge against his arms, and enjoyed the moment.

 

* * *

 

Keith woke to the sensation of fingers running through his hair. His nose twitched as he dragged himself back into full consciousness. He was safe, which was why he didn’t immediately go for his dagger, but he didn’t fully register why until he breathed in deeper and caught the faintly metallic floral scent of Lance’s mask. It was such a strange scent but it was so instinctively tied to Lance and castle night cycles in Keith's mind that he barely even thought about how flowers shouldn't remind him of blood and battle.

He tilted his head back, reluctantly pulling away from his spot curled up against Lance, and opened his eyes.

Allura knelt on the floor in front of the couch, dressed in her nightgown with her hair loose, reaching forward to brush his fringe away from his face.

“Come to join the party?” Keith’s words slurred, his tongue still half asleep like the rest of him.

Allura pulled her hand back and raised her eyebrow. “You've been spending too much time with Lance.”

Keith glanced at the sleeping paladin beside him and couldn't help his fond smile. “Maybe.”

Allura shared her own smile. “I just wanted to see how you were.”

Keith tried to sit up straighter and pay proper attention to the conversation, but Lance was attached to his side with a tight grip and Pidge’s legs were slung over his lap holding him in place. Her head was pillowed on Hunk’s stomach and she'd latched onto his arm like a teddy bear. Moving might wake all of them, so Keith gave up and shrugged at Allura's amused expression.

“I'm pretty sure I'm good.”

“So it would seem.”

Keith’s smile faded as he woke further and took in Allura properly. She might have seemed her usual impeccable self on the surface, but there was tension in her brow and her smile was too tight even if it was genuine. He recalled something Lance said about Allura and Naxcella.

“Are _you_ alright?”

Allura blinked, startled by the question. “Of course.” Keith just stared at her and she sighed. “I will be.”

Keith nodded, accepting it for now. “Well, if you ever need to …  talk, or …” He fumbled to a halt, still not completely comfortable with acting as a pillar of support but better at offering and trying than he used to be.

Seeing his effort, Allura's smile softened. “Thank you Keith. I will certainly keep it in mind. But then, perhaps it will not be needed if Lance surprises me again with another insightful speech.”

Keith couldn’t help the short laugh escaping as he saw the bemusement on her face as she turned to look at Lance. “Yeah. He's actually pretty good at that.”

Lance, unaware of the scrutiny of his teammates, continued sleep—a small patch of drying drool gathering on his chin. Allura reached out to brush his hair like she had Keith and Lance smiled at the touch, relaxing further into Keith.

“It is good to have you back Keith,” Allura said as she stood up. Her smile felt like a blessing.

“Thanks Allura.”

Keith turned his head to watch her cross to the door and saw Matt and Shiro waiting beyond the threshold. Matt winked at Keith when he noticed him watching then turned to offer Allura his arm, bowing exaggeratedly and making her laugh. She didn’t take his arm but they did walk away together down the hall towards the sleeping quarters.

Shiro lingered by the open door.

Keith carefully lifted Pidge’s feet from his lap and slid forward—doing his best not to jostle Lance too much. Pidge was dead to the world as he set her legs back on the couch behind him, but Lance stirred when Keith pulled away from his side and let cool air fill the space between them. Keith leaned over to rest his hand against Lance’s hair much like Allura had and he settled, though he was still frowning in his sleep. His fingers flexed as though trying to clutch at something in his dreams.

Keith took a moment to look at his teammates, so peaceful in their rest despite some strange sleeping poses (Hunk was definitely going to have a crick in his neck when he woke) before walking over to Shiro.

He let the door close behind him, facing Shiro in the hallway so they wouldn’t disturb the others.

For a brief ridiculous moment, Keith was terrified that Shiro was about to say that he shouldn’t be there—that there was no place for him on the castle—the team—any more.

That fear was completely blown away when Shiro clasped his shoulder in a familiar comforting gesture and smiled down at Keith with relief and happiness.

“Matt told me everything,” Shiro said. Keith almost tensed up again but Shiro continued. “I am so proud of you. And so glad you’re alive.”

Keith felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He barely managed to croak out Shiro’s name before being pulled into Shiro’s heavy and warm embrace. He breathed deeply, letting the tears slide down his face, and allowed himself to bask in Shiro’s love.

Shiro’s hands trembled where they clutched at him. It was only just starting to dawn on Keith how awful it must have felt for Shiro to hear how close he came to losing Keith. They both had the rest of the team now, but before they’d only really had each other. It wasn’t just Keith who would lose someone if they were separated again; Shiro would be devastated too.

Keith tightened his hold on Shiro.

They were both exhausted by the days' battles but they stayed locked together until both of their faces were dry again.

 

* * *

 

Keith rubbed at his aching eyes as he stumbled back into the darkened lounge. Pidge and Hunk hadn’t moved, except for Pidge curling further around Hunk’s arm. Lance, however, had slid down to sprawl on his side on the bend of the couch, blanket tangling around his legs still planted on the floor where he’d been sitting upright. Keith shook his head and moved to rearrange Lance into a more comfortable position without waking him.

He was unsuccessful.

Lance’s hand reached out to grab his before he could try to move Lance. His eyes were still closed but Keith knew he was awake enough to register his surroundings.

“Y’okay?”

Keith stared at Lance’s brown hand wrapped around his pale wrist—a grip that should have felt like a chain holding him down but instead felt like an anchor keeping him from falling. He moved to sit back down next to Lance, shoving Lance up despite the quiet grumbling, and untangled the blanket to spread over both of their laps. He smirked as Lance retaliated for the disturbance by nuzzling his forehead into Keith’s shoulder with more force than needed to get comfortable.

“Yeah.” He breathed in, long and deep. “I think I am now.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr: [ladyvialana](https://ladyvialana.tumblr.com/)


End file.
